Ben kept an eye on Sam, who was trying to mask the pain in her eyes, her determination unwavering despite the evident strain. With a reassuring nod, he joined Joel in encouraging her to follow them as they quietly made their way toward the front exit, their footsteps muffled by the dimly lit warehouse’s concrete floor. Seeing Sam suffer from something that could have easily been avoided rekindled Ben’s hatred of the men who’d abducted her, absolving him of all guilt as they passed the bloodied, lifeless bodies lying around the table where Sam had been bound.

  Finally reaching the door at the far end of the warehouse, Ben held them all at the opening while he came up with a plan. The clock was ticking, and Ben was certain their window of opportunity to get out of here without encountering resistance was rapidly shrinking. Taking the front entrance would minimize their exposure, but they’d eventually have to make a dash for the highway. That meant traversing a hundred yards of open parking lot and landscaped beds in order to reach the shoulder of the westbound lane and soon-to-be-waiting vehicles.

  Ben’s hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his rifle, his senses on high alert. The creak of the door hinges reverberated through the empty space, and they were suddenly bathed in the harsh light of day, their eyes adjusting to the brightness. The scene outside was eerily quiet, the abandoned parking lot stretching out before them like a desolate wasteland. Ben scanned the area, searching for any signs of movement or lurking danger, his heart pounding in his chest.

  “Listen.” Joel froze. With his arm over Sam, he crouched by the edge of the doorframe in the shadows.

  “It’s the girls.” Ben recognized the Blazer’s exhaust note immediately, then the Jeep’s. The concrete divider separating the east- and westbound lanes would prevent the others from turning directly into the industrial park, forcing them to drive another half mile or so down the road. Sandy and Allie would have to execute a U-turn at the end of the barrier and cross the weed-choked median to rendezvous with them on the westbound side of the highway. The situation was less than ideal, not just because of the open ground between the warehouses and the road but because it gave any would-be attackers two opportunities to take a shot at the trucks as they passed by.

  Ben spotted a lone box truck at the edge of the parking lot toward the highway. It sported the same name as the stacked boxes of electronic parts inside. It wasn’t ideal cover, but it was their only option.

  “Go for the truck when I say to.” Ben swept his gaze across the area once more, checking for any threats or unexpected surprises.

  Satisfied they were momentarily secure, he exhaled a tense breath, his mind already mapping out their next piece of cover: a sign surrounded by dead shrubs beyond the delivery truck at the entrance to the parking lot.

  “Let’s go.” Ben led as they cautiously stepped into the open. After a few paces, he dropped back. “Keep going. I’m right behind you.”

  With silent determination, they set off across the open expanse, their progress steady yet cautious. Every second felt like an eternity, the weight of their vulnerability bearing down on them as they navigated the terrain. Joel made the truck first and tucked down behind the hood, looking back over the parking lot with his rifle. Ben wanted to run, but he wasn’t going to leave Sam behind.

  His heart sank as he watched Sam struggle, her panting growing more arduous with each step. “Come on, girl. Just a little bit farther,” he urged, his voice laced with both concern and determination. He felt bad for the old dog, but that didn’t shorten the distance they had to cover or help ease the obvious pain she was experiencing with each labored step. Ben wished he had some water for the dog; he wouldn’t mind taking a drink himself, not that he had time for that.

  They couldn’t afford to move at this pace, not with the noise they’d already made and the girls’ imminent arrival at the agreed-upon meeting point. The longer he and Joel made them wait in the vehicles on the shoulder, the more likely they’d become targets.

  Suddenly, the sharp crack of Joel’s gun shattered the tense silence, jolting Ben into action. His instincts kicked in, and he forced himself into a sprint, swinging the heavy weight of his carbine around to his back. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he closed the distance to Sam, the urgency of the moment drowning out the pain in his own body.

  Ben lowered his body and planted a knee on the searing pavement, hoisting Sam onto his shoulders in one swift movement. Bullets whizzed past, the distinct sound of rounds hitting the pavement spurring his efforts. The added weight made his movements more cumbersome, but he pushed on, driven by the need to keep both himself and the injured dog out of harm’s way.

  Every muscle in his body strained as he ran awkwardly toward Joel and the relative safety of the truck, his focus locked on the goal ahead. Ben dropped to the ground behind the front axle, letting Sam down onto the blacktop once more.

  “Stay.” Ben ordered the dog to sit while pulling his AR-15 around from its slung position, although he couldn’t imagine her going anywhere.

  Joel ducked behind the truck’s hood as another couple of rounds chipped into the windshield, sending pulverized glass particles into the air. Ben checked the highway, judging the distance they still had to cover to meet the others, then turned to answer their assailants with a few shots of his own.

  Crack… crack… crack. Ben didn’t have a clear shot at their attackers, but his bullets struck close to the shooters’ hiding spot and bought them a few moments of peace.

  “I want you to carry Sam to the sign. Then cover me. We’re gonna have to leapfrog all the way out to the highway.” Ben tipped his head toward the landscaped island that held the ground-based sign for the industrial park. The sign’s material looked flimsy, but the elevated dirt mound and stone retaining wall that surrounded the dead shrubs and flowers would provide all the cover they needed.

  This was exactly the type of situation Ben had hoped to avoid but somehow knew he wouldn’t. The last shreds of humanity were long gone. Society had fully degraded to a state of shoot first and ask questions later. That had been the case long before this particular incident, but those who sought to do them harm had reached whole new levels of recklessness and desperation.

  Joel slid his rifle around to his back and got into position to pick up Sam. The dog fought him at first but eventually settled down once her feet were off the ground.

  Ben popped over the hood of the truck, sending two more shots downrange. “Go.”

  Joel didn’t hesitate and started for the landscaped island while Ben kept their attackers pinned down with covering fire. The incoming shots had slowed in frequency. With any luck, they were running low on ammunition or maybe rethinking the risk-to-reward ratio of their ill-conceived plan to prey on Sam.

  Ben had about half a magazine left for his rifle and the fully loaded Glock to fall back on. He could hold these guys at bay, but not for long, and he regretted not having Joel grab a few spare magazines when he went for the radio. He wasn’t expecting to get into a full-blown firefight, although at this point, that was no excuse not to be prepared. He should have anticipated the situation.

  Ben glanced back and saw that Joel and Sam were securely tucked behind the sign and raised landscaping. It was his turn to gain some ground on the rendezvous point.

  “Come in, Ben. Are you okay? We’re close. Over.” Sandy sounded worried, and she had every right to be.

  They were trading shots with at least three people, from what Ben could tell, all of them armed and shooting from the busted-out windows of the warehouse he and Joel had just left. There was no question that these people were associated with the two that had nabbed Sam. Even if they’d given up on recapturing the dog, they’d want revenge for their two companions that Ben had dispatched inside the warehouse.

  “Come in, Sandy. I need you to stay put until you see us by the road. I repeat, hold your position until you see us on the road. Over.” Ben secured the radio to his belt, hoping Sandy took the new orders to heart. If the girls pulled up too early, they’d be in the line of fire. Ben would let her know when it was time, but for now, the safest place for them was anywhere but here.

  11

  Joel braced himself against the landscaped berm, stealing quick glances over the sign before ducking or returning fire. Sam sat behind him, licking her injured leg intermittently as she seemed to try and soothe herself.

  In the midst of the chaotic firefight, Joel couldn’t help but replay the scene of his dad confronting the two men who had grabbed Sam. The memory was etched in his mind. His father’s usually restrained demeanor had been replaced by a decisive and lethal edge. It wasn’t the first time they had to confront dangerous situations, nor was it the first time they had to make morally complex decisions for the sake of survival. But something about the recent incident lingered in Joel’s thoughts.

  His father’s transformation since they left Colorado was undeniable. The man who once valued every life and sought nonlethal solutions had hardened and was now unflinching in the face of violence. Joel recalled the times when his dad would playfully ambush him with snowballs after school, the joy in his eyes, the warmth in his smile. But those moments felt like distant memories, blurred out by the severity of their current reality.

  The road trip had left its mark on all of them, stripping away their innocence layer by layer. Even Joel’s brother and sister, usually brimming with excitement and curiosity, now bore the weight of fear and suspicion. They had all grown callous and untrusting to some degree, or at least their attitudes suggested so. Yet Joel couldn’t help but wonder if he was deflecting his own internal turmoil by focusing on the changes in others, using their altered personas to rationalize the shift in his attitude and his outlook on life.

  A stray bullet whizzed past, snapping Joel back to the present. Their lives had become a mess of conflicting emotions smothered in doubt about the future. But none of that would matter if he didn’t get in the game and help his dad get them back to the others. Joel waited for the right moment and returned fire.

  Crack… crack.

  He sent two shots into the warehouse, narrowly missing one of the shooters by a couple of inches. His dad took advantage of the covering fire and ran for Joel and Sam’s position behind the sign. Joel made sure to send a few more rounds into the metal skin of the warehouse just under an open window, where one of the shooters was taking potshots at them. After the initial noise of the gunshots subsided and the ringing in his ears faded, Joel heard a man howl in misery from inside the building. He’d hit one of them, and although he couldn’t see what kind of damage he’d done, he found himself hoping the wound was fatal.

  “I got one, I think,” Joel shouted, then ducked behind the retaining wall as his dad slid to a stop in the brown grass alongside Sam.

  “Good.” His dad congratulated him, but Joel could tell he was only half interested; he was already scouting their next position. “The ditch, that’s our next move.”

  Joel’s gaze shifted from the warehouse to the challenging terrain ahead. The dense weeds and tall grass lining both sides of the drainage ditch made it clear that traversing it quickly would be no easy feat. Adding to the difficulty was the task of carrying Sam, a burden that weighed equally as heavy on Joel’s mind as it did on his body. He couldn’t help but feel remorse for the dog, recognizing the pain, fear, and confusion reflected in her eyes. The sense of guilt gnawed at him, as if he had let down his grandfather and was personally responsible for Sam ending up in such a precarious situation. Despite the urgency of their escape, Joel couldn’t shake the feeling of responsibility for Sam’s plight. His grandfather had entrusted him with the care of the dog, and now, in the chaos of their current predicament, he couldn’t help but feel like he had failed both his grandfather and Sam. The weight of culpability settled heavily on his shoulders, amplifying the tension and anxiety already pulsating through his veins.

  “It’s all right, girl. We’re almost out of this mess.” Joel rubbed Sam’s head, trying to comfort the dog as well as himself.

  This was no time to feel sorry for himself. His dad and Sam were counting on him to be present in the moment. With determined resolve, he pushed aside the waves of self-doubt, focusing on the task at hand and the necessity of getting both himself and Sam to safety. They couldn’t afford to falter now.

  “I’ve got Sam,” Joel announced as he positioned himself to grab the dog once more and run as soon as his dad gave the go-ahead.

  They all ducked as an incoming round kicked up a puff of stone dust from the retaining wall.

  “Now.” Ben squeezed off a round over the landscaped mound.

  Joel didn’t wait to see if his dad’s shot had found its target; there was no time. Sam didn’t fight him this time, and Joel was able to scoop up the dog cleanly. Before he knew it, they were battling their way through the nearly chest-high weeds toward the ditch. Joel approached the drop-off but misjudged where the high ground ended. He managed to hang on to Sam as his legs buckled underneath him. They went down hard, with Sam landing on top of Joel, driving him down into a waist-deep ooze of greenish-black mud that smelled as bad as it looked and felt.

  Joel let out a groan of frustration as he grappled with the thick, slimy muck in the ditch, fighting to maintain his balance and prevent him and Sam from sinking completely. With considerable effort, he managed to regain his footing and stabilize Sam’s weight, all the while struggling to push through the tar-like substance and reach the other side.

  The unexpected presence of the mire within the ditch caught Joel off guard, especially in contrast to the arid surroundings. The moisture must have been preserved by the dense rows of cattails lining the edges of the trench, shielding the stagnant water from the scorching sun and preventing it from evaporating. As they inched forward, Joel grappled with the slippery, clinging muck, determined to keep both himself and Sam from succumbing to the unforgiving obstacle.

  The worst part—even worse than the horrific smell—was that Joel could no longer see what was happening. He was well below the surrounding elevation. That was good for avoiding bullets but bad for providing his dad with covering fire. But the crash of weeds and vegetation being pushed out of the way indicated that his dad wasn’t waiting for Joel to cover him.

  “Be careful. It drops…” Joel’s warning came too late.

  “Oh, nice.” Ben found the bottom of the ditch the same way Joel and Sam had discovered it. Joel had already reached the other side and unloaded Sam onto the far bank.

  “Take my hand.” Joel reached a hand toward his dad, who readily took the offer of assistance. Joel pulled as hard as he could, and combined with Ben’s efforts, the two of them hauled themselves out of the greasy mess and up onto solid ground.

  Ben pulled the radio from his belt and used his hand to scrape a layer of black muck from the device. “We’re ready. Over.”

  “On our way. Over,” Sandy’s voice crackled.

  “Come on, stay low.” Ben didn’t bother getting off the ground and started belly-crawling up the other side of the ditch through the weeds. Sam clawed her way up the incline on her own, and Joel followed, trying to lose as much of the sticky ooze from his body as he could along the way.

  “I think I got another one of them.” Ben glanced back at Joel.

  “Good.” Joel moved to his left, taking advantage of the path his father had already plowed through the tall grass.

  “When we get to the top, I want you and Sam to run for the highway,” Ben instructed.

  “I’m not leaving you here,” Joel argued.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be right behind you,” Ben assured him.

  No sooner had they crawled to the top of the incline than they heard the Blazer and the Jeep coming down the highway.

  “We don’t see you. Over.” Sandy’s voice was frantic.

  “Keep coming. We’re here.” Ben got to his knees and shook the viscous muck from his weapon. “Get going, and don’t stop until you’re in the Jeep.”

  Ben stood up and shouldered his rifle, aiming toward the warehouse behind them. The grass was tall but not tall enough to cover them completely.

  Crack.

  Ben fired another shot while Joel gathered himself for the mad dash to safety. Both the Blazer and Jeep were visible now, and their arrival hadn’t gone unnoticed by Sam, who immediately started hobbling toward the approaching vehicles.

  “Get moving, now,” Ben shouted.

  Joel didn’t want to leave his dad behind, but the order was clearly nonnegotiable. His first step almost brought him to his knees, though, as the greasy slime caked onto his hiking boots made the ditch bank hard to scale. Slowly but surely, Joel clambered the rest of the way up the incline, gaining speed and momentum that allowed him to catch up to Sam.

  “Come on, girl. Keep moving. Almost there,” Joel huffed.

  The highway and waiting trucks loomed closer, a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. With each step, he willed himself to go faster, as the echoes of gunfire ringing in his ears served as a relentless reminder of the imminent threat at their heels.

  12

  Ben stood upright at the top of the ditch, searching for the remaining shooter over the tall grass. He saw movement behind a utility pedestal and took a shot at the pale green metal box he believed was hiding someone. He was pretty sure he’d killed one of the shooters—or at least wounded one of them to the point they were no longer interested in shooting back. Joel had taken a man out as well, leaving just one attacker to foil Ben’s escape. But there were still a good forty yards or more of mostly open ground between Ben and the shoulder of the highway, where the trucks were waiting. And it would only take one bullet from the remaining shooter to ruin his day.

  Joel and Sam had reached the trucks already, and Ben was encouraged to see Joel had the old dog loaded up and ready to go with Sandy’s help. Ben was tempted to wave the trucks down the road a ways. He could move parallel to the highway behind the tall vegetation and reconnect with the others once they were all out of this guy’s range.